


In-N-Out Burger

by xenacryst



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Food, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-02
Updated: 2008-10-02
Packaged: 2017-10-02 01:28:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xenacryst/pseuds/xenacryst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Food porn</p>
            </blockquote>





	In-N-Out Burger

Dean opens the hotel door, kicks it with his boot while holding a take-out bag in one hand and a six-pack in the other.

"Helluva name for a burger joint, if you ask me. `In-N-Out.' Can't think about that too carefully. And they're not even fast."

He announces to an empty room, looks around, and then shrugs. Sam still out somewhere, maybe chatting up that girl they ran into at the pet shop. He sheds his boots, twists the cap off a beer, and peers into the red and white bag.

Fries. Check. He eats in silence, then arches his eyebrows. "Not bad." Chases it with half the beer.

Remote. Check. Except there's just five channels in this dive in Bullhead City, and the closest thing to skin on screen is the cheer leading tryouts at the local high school. Not that desperate. Flips back to the weather, catching the announcer saying "record breaking highs" before he mutes it.

"Don't I know it," he mutters. Taking his shirt off, he downs the rest of the beer, opens another, lets the cold bottle sit against his chest. He reduces the fries to salt and oil, reaches for the prize.

"Damn, ya gotta love it though. Hey Sam, you really oughtta see this. Four patties. Four of 'em. In one burger." Feels the back of his thigh. "All I got's buns," he chuckles.

Bites, feels ketchup slide down his chin. Reaches for a napkin, but the bottle on his chest tips, spills beer on his jeans.

"Fuck."

Jeans hung up on the shower, and he's standing in just his whites, cold beer evaporating from his chest, the smell of grease. And fuck it's hot in here, and he's hungry, and not just for dinner. Hands find his dick, rubbing through the fabric. And then he's on the bed, straddling a pillow, humping, pressing hardness against the softer foam.

The first beer's gone to his head, and he floats on the feeling. Opens a fresh second and lifts it to his mouth, then touches the cold to a nipple, teasing himself hard, swallowing the bitter.

He wants _more_. More for his mouth, more to fuck. Pulls the other pillow underneath him, thrusts against it. Then grabs the burger and bites. He makes a noise that could be "fuck, yeah" but sounds more like a grunt with his mouth full. Collapses forward and buries is face in the meat. Hands pull the pillows against himself, and he explores the burger with his tongue. Biting, sucking, while he thrusts and grinds. Some small part of his head regrets the hot sauce, but it kicks, and he feels it down to the tip of his dick. And he comes, swallowing, wetness spreading in his shorts, burger a memory.

He wakes in the morning, Sam snoring in the next bed. Showers, washing dried hot sauce off his chin and cum off his dick. Emerges, wearing a towel and holding his jeans. Sam blinks at him.

"Say, uh. You find anything last night?" Dean asks the question as he balls up the jeans for the laundry bag.

Sam shoots him a look, but shakes his head. "Nothing unusual."


End file.
